Poetry To Prose

by Ben Pickard   Jan 22, 2020


I've watched the seasons come and go -
The clouds to sun, the sun to snow -
But now the wind has left me cold
And loneliness has taken hold.

Among the leaves, when leaves were green,
There was a breeze, so cool and clean,
But with the storms, there comes a hurt
That's born amidst the rain and dirt.

A naked form, I am forlorn,
Upon the cliffs, within the storm,
And do beseech the gods to see
The pain her leaving did to me.

A wreck upon a captain's deck -
A grain of sand, a pointless speck -
I oftentimes have come to ask
If I can sail without a mast.

So be you near or be you far,
Be you the sun or you the stars,
Be kind and shine your light on those
Whose poetry has turned to prose.

--

Ben Pickard 2020

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Latest Comments

  • 7 months ago

    by Star

    Judging Comment:

    This man has lost something great in his life, not only the lost love. He forgot that prose may be meaningful as well. And when poetry turns to prose it’s not demoted the content may be more raw.
    Also the title “Poetry to Prose”, made me see a side maybe hidden, or a different kind of interpretation. Which is a life that had lost balance.

    One last thing, it seems poetry did not turn to prose for you.

  • 7 months ago

    by Em (marmite)

    Oh Ben, this hit right in the gut, a lovely message at the end of the poem which says "you don't know what others are going through so be kind always.."
    This morning I nipped in the bakery shop and got an homeless veteran a bacon sarnie and coffee.. He as ever so thankful x x

    • 7 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      A lovely thing to do, Em. As wet as it may sound, those little acts of kindness really are important. And the funny thing is, they really do make you feel better for having done them, don't they?

  • 7 months ago

    by Milly Hayward

    Loved this from start to to finish. My interpretation of this poem is that in all but the last stanza is portrayed a figure who is lonely through lost love, whose existence seems pointless it describes his pain and in the last stanza is a plea for no matter who you are to consider and be kind to those who through lost love have suffered to such a degree that they have found life's poetic beauty reduced to naught but mundane sentences (prose)

  • 7 months ago

    by Everlasting

    Well, here is my opinion...
    Poetry is divided between verse and prose. So if someone writes verse is poetry. If someone writes prose is poetry. You should see some mathematical proofs, those are poetry. Specially, because of how those proofs moved and excite the mathematicians.

    Huhmm sorry I forgot where I was going with the above comment. I was going to make a point but it slipped out of my thoughts.

    “Be kind and shine your light on those
    Whose poetry has turned to prose.”

    ^^ these lines prompted my comment about poetry being verse and prose.

    Anyhow, glad to see your writing

    • 7 months ago

      by Ben Pickard

      I understand that view, Lucero, but in my opinion, they are seperate and if we dont see them as such, we do a disservice to them both. Thanks for your thoughtful comment though.

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